Yesterday was daltonboy's birthday. I started the celebration off right by calling him from Salt Lake and telling him my car was dead. After we determined that it wasn't going to work out for some nearby Good Samaritan to help me jump the car (tried that, without success), he left work early and drove up to find me. It turned out to be the right thing to do.
We got my car started after a while, and decided he'd follow me home. We chose not to use the freeway. Another good decision. At this point I was still hopeful that I'd be home in time to whisk together the delicious pasta dinner I'd started preparing the night before.
About ten miles down the road, the car quit again. In the middle of a six-lane artery, at rush hour. Some guys helped us push it into a parking lot. D.I., to be exact. For a second, I thought we were in luck--we could rescue this thing by going in and having a little D.I. date, and head home later after the traffic calmed down. Then I was informed that we had to get home before dark, because I wasn't going to be allowed to use my headlights. So no shopping spree for me (I mean, daltonboy).
I called Lola and asked her to start getting the food ready.
Started up the car again, only now I got to drive the truck, since my skills weren't up to keeping the Daewoo running. Fine. At least I was able to get warmed up. No heater in the car, either.
I'm not going to use the words of "limped home," but we drove alongside this guy most of the way. And at one point he passed us like we were standing still.
Once it got dark, I had to drive in front, because the car had no lights. About five miles from home, the car quit again, only this time the traffic was so heavy we had no way to get the hood of the truck up to the hood of the car to jump it again, so we left it and went home.
The dinner was delicious. Too bad we couldn't enjoy it as much as we would have liked, on account of having to rush back out and get the car before UDOT had it towed. We left it in a major construction zone.
It was on the final stretch of our homeward journey that we got our big break. A police car saw us cruising along, topping speeds of fifteen mph, and pulled us over. We weren't surprised. It was now pitch dark and daltonboy was driving a car with no lights.
I hoped and prayed the officer would demand to see some I.D., but he didn't. That was the only thing that could have saved the birthday. Also, it would have given daltonboy a chance to show off his new, renewed license, which he was conscientious enough to get before his birthday. Instead the cop kindly offered some advice and left us to crawl the rest of the way home.
Daltonboy claimed his head was starting to hurt. Poor kid. At least the cake was yummy.
You know, after driving for four hours, I usually expect to be somewhere. Like St. George.
2 comments:
Why didn't you call me?! I do live in SLC now, don't you know? Ok, I don't know anything about cars, but I could have offered some good company!
Thank goodness I was there for you last night! Not with the car stuff, but as a companion during the waiting for the car stuff. Still totally useful for morale.
And the highlight of my evening was driving by your abandoned car on the highway. As requested, I gave it a wave as I drove by. :)
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